The opening came all at once. One of the men, overconfident and sure of himself dashed out ahead of his friends. He smirked slightly as he closed on Aurin in his flight. He had entirely forgot that even while running, wolves have fangs. Aurin noted the advance, even going so far as to look like he had taken a misstep. The man laughed cruelly as he drew back his arm to hurl a keen dagger at the Templar’s broad back. The Templar himself was faster.
His hand dropped to the axe as his belt as he spun, his hand cocking back before he snapped his arm forwards to throw. The weapon was released smoothly, without hesitation. It tumbled though the air, light from the meager stars twinkling off the metal head of the weapon. The one perusing him had only a moment to look surprised before the thrown weapon crashed into his chest. Leather and flesh parted at the impact of the heavy blade and the thief tumbled with a groan, his momentum caring him forwards as he fell. He crashed to the ground, tangling the feet of the other men even as Aurin sprung forwards again. Pursuit was reduced to curses as the thieves tangled up with each other. Some crashed to the ground, and others fell behind as they lost speed, forced to step around the tangle of corpse and bodies. Soon they would be up again, but for now Aurin was free to run.
His sense of direction however failed him the direction he took led further away from his destination. He ran on down the maze of ground level alleys. He was entirely unaware of the group of three men that were cut from a similar cloth to the ones he left behind several blocks ahead of the fleeting Templar, and he would run right into it.